


The Marriage of True Minds

by Jelly



Series: The Primrose Path [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Aruani Week 2016, F/M, Harry Potter Crossover - Freeform, i have wanted to do this for so long, snk but in hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-28 18:31:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6340567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jelly/pseuds/Jelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today is the beginning of the rest of her life. A life planned for her by her father and mother, with no room for error or speculation. She will go to Diagon Alley in the morning to buy her wand, her books, and her robes; she will go to Hogwarts and be sorted into Slytherin like the rest of her family; she will do magnificently in all her classes; and she will gain a seat in Ministry of Magic. She will marry a Braun or a Hoover to keep her bloodline pure, and her children will rinse and repeat.</p><p> “You’re lucky to be a Leonhardt,” they tell her. “You are lucky you were born to a family with such prestige.”</p><p> Lucky, they say. Annie doesn’t quite think it’s the same word she would use.</p><p>[Hogwarts AU for Aruani Week 2016.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Deny thy father; Refuse thy name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katsy0c0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katsy0c0/gifts), [PhaeGay (2lulah)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/2lulah/gifts).



> I have literally been dying to do an HP crossover for so long and the first prompt of Aruani week is - wouldn't you know it - crossover! I'm sticking with the Hogwarts AU all week because I love it mostly, and, also, no one can stop me. Originally, I was gonna have Annie be a Slytherin but that’s real cliche and Katie and Phae have this kickass headcanon where Annie is a Ravenclaw and I’m super down with that. I'm gifting this to them because it's their headcanon - I'm just playing in it.
> 
> Happy Aruani Week everyone! Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Crossover

 

 

_Deny thy father; Refuse thy name_

 

Annie gets her letter on her eleventh birthday.

It’s no surprise, of course – she comes from a long line of witches and wizards, and she’d known magic before she’d even learned how to speak. The Leonhardts are an old family; a _pure_ family – she can’t even imagine the shame her father would feel if her letter _didn’t_ arrive today – but it comes as expected, and everyone is pleased, and everything is fine.

 When she’s alone later, she clutches the parchment and studies it under the candlelight with a sigh.

 _Miss Annie Leonhardt_ , it reads, and she runs her fingers over the letters of her last name.

Today is the beginning of the rest of her life. A life planned for her by her father and mother, with no room for error or speculation. She will go to Diagon Alley in the morning to buy her wand, her books, and her robes; she will go to Hogwarts and be sorted into Slytherin like the rest of her family; she will do magnificently in all her classes; and she will gain a seat in Ministry of Magic. She will marry a Braun or a Hoover to keep her bloodline pure, and her children will rinse and repeat.

 “You’re lucky to be a Leonhardt,” they tell her. “You are lucky you were born to a family with such prestige.”

 Lucky, they say. Annie doesn’t quite think it’s the same word she would use.

 

 

She meets a boy in Ollivanders.

 He’s only just taller than she is with a shock of yellow-blonde hair and sky blue eyes. He looks nervous but curious at the same time, and he smiles at her while the witch he’s with chats amicably with Mr. Ollivander.

 “Hello,” he greets. “Are – are you getting a wand too?”

 Annie nods and studies him. He’s not wearing robes – he’s in a pair of jeans and a jumper that’s slightly too big. Muggle clothes, she thinks. She figures he’s muggle born. “Is it your first time here?” she asks carefully.

 He seems to understand. “Yeah,” he says, glancing around the shop. “I – uh – I didn’t know I was a wizard. I live with my grandfather, and he never really said anything. I guess he didn’t know either because Professor Zoe had to come and explain things to us after I got my letter.” He grins shyly. “I’m Armin, by the way. Armin Arlert.”

 “Arlert,” she repeats, running through the names of wizarding families in her mind. It doesn’t sound familiar at all. “Were either of your parents magic?”

 Armin shrugs. “I don’t know, to be honest,” he says. “They died when I was little.”

 “Oh.” Annie pauses and studies her shoes. “I’m Annie, I guess. Leonhardt.”

 “Leonhardt?” Ollivander peers past Professor Zoe and hurries out from behind the counter. “My apologies, Miss, I didn’t realize it was you! I haven’t seen you since I fashioned a new wand for your father. My goodness, you’ve gotten tall. You won’t be telling him I didn’t recognize you, will you?”

 She shakes her head. “It’s fine, Mr. Ollivander,” she says, almost disgusted at the way he speaks her last name like it’s even remotely important. “I guess I’ll see you at Hogwarts?” she adds to Armin.

 Armin nods eagerly. “Yeah. Um. See you later, Annie.” And he grins at her one last time and lets Professor Zoe lead him out of the shop.

 

 

 She asks her father about Armin’s last name when she gets home.

 “Arlert?” he scoffs. “The only Arlert I know of was a mudblood boy when I was at Hogwarts. He and his wife died in some accident some ten years ago. Good riddance, I say. We don’t need more dirty blood tainting pure blood lines.”

 “Oh,” says Annie shortly. She says nothing else.

 

 

“Annie!”

 Annie sets her trunk down to catch her breath and glances up to find cheerful sky blue eyes peering into hers. She searches her mind for his name. “Armin,” she says at last, offering him a polite smile. “Hello.”

 He grins, pleased that she remembers. “I’m glad I saw you. I don’t know anyone else here. Do you need help?”

 “Er – no –”

 “Don’t be silly,” he says, moving to help her with her end. “Your trunk’s almost as big as you are – let me help.” He starts heaving it up the steps and onto the train before she has time to consider it a second time.

 He’s not much bigger than she is, and she starts heaving again if only because he’ll hurt his back if she doesn’t. Together, they lug it into the carriage and into an empty compartment at the end. He grins at her and wipes the sweat from his brow when they manage to get it under the seat at last.

 “Thank you,” she says, offering him a grateful smile.

 He shakes his head. “It’s no worries. Like I said, I – uh – don’t really know anyone else here. I – I was wondering if it was okay to hang out with you for a while, actually. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

 She hesitates and glances out the train window at her father. He’s busy, of course – he looks as if he’s having a rather aggressive conversation with a witch about her son’s owl. Mr. Braun and Mr. Hoover – his friends from the ministry – are standing on either side of him like bodyguards, while their sons – Reiner and Bertholdt, she thinks their names are – snigger stupidly behind them.

 Annie scowls and turns away, figuring it’ll be much easier to pretend she’s not related to him when she’s all the way at Hogwarts. “Yeah,” she says, pointedly refusing to look at the Braun and Hoover boys. “That’s fine. I don’t really know anyone around here either.”

 

 

 The train ride is nice.

 Armin doesn’t feel the weight of her name, and for once, neither can she. They’re joined by a couple of other kids just before the train lurches into motion. One is a half-blood boy – Eren Jaeger – Annie remembers her father fuming about some healer with the same name who refused to see him before an elderly half-blood witch. The other – Mikasa Ackerman – has an uncle who teaches Transfiguration. Annie knows her name too.

 They both know hers. They’re weary of her at first – Eren makes a joke about how family called Leonhardt would be a family of Slytherins when it makes far more sense for them to be a family of Gryffindors – and their eyes soften at the way she cringes at her name. They seem to understand, and the weariness dissipates as the train gains speed.

 

 

 The castle is magnificent.

 Its shadow looms over the lake, and the light from the windows looks like bright yellow stars against the night sky. Annie has never seen anything like it in her life, and she stares up at with so much wonder in her eyes that she probably looks like a muggle born. Her father would probably scold her for looking like such a fool, but he’s not here and she couldn’t care less. Beside her, Armin’s grin is so wide that it’s infectious, and she can’t help but grin too.

 They clamber into little rowboats and glide across the lake, listening to the other first years whispering in excitement. When their boats bump against the harbour on the other side of the lake, they file onto the dock, scurry up a flight of stone steps and come to a rest outside a pair of gigantic oak doors.

 They creak open. Annie holds her breath.

 

 

 Professor Ackerman – Mikasa’s uncle, Annie presumes – leads them up and through the castle. They go up a couple of flights of marble stairs, and through a brightly lit entrance hallway, and, finally through a second pair of oak doors and into a hall full of three or four hundred other students. Annie knows the ceremony. Her father talks about it how pointless it is if only they stopped admitting non-pure blood students.

 Suddenly Annie feels sick. She knows what house she’ll be in. Pretending not to be a Leonhardt won’t work in a house that knows her name. Her legs feel heavy and her chest feels tight.

 “Ackerman, Mikasa!” calls Professor Ackerman. There’s a pause. And then.

 “GRYFFINDOR!”

 Annie wants to puke.

 “Arlert, Armin!”

 Beside her, Armin takes shaky breath and starts up the steps. For a moment, there’s a glimmer of hope, and, maybe, by some strange twist of events, he’ll be sorted into Slytherin too – but the hat barely touches his head before it shouts “RAVENCLAW” out to the rest of the school.

 Annie hangs her head.

 “Bodt, Marco,” goes to Gryffindor; “Braun, Riener,” to Slytherin (Annie’s not surprised); “Braus, Sasha,” goes to Gryffindor too, and it goes on for what feels like forever before “Leonhardt, Annie!” is called and Annie stumbles to the front of the crowd of first years on wobbly legs.

 Professor Ackerman drops the hat on her head, and the crowd of students is replaced by rough black material. She nearly jumps when a voice starts to whisper in her ear.

 “Another Leonhardt?” it says with what sounds like a chuckle. “I know what I should do with you and yet… I feel like I shouldn’t, just to shake things up. I remember your father, girl, and you don’t seem at all like him. I see a ready mind, and loyalty, and a heart that suits the true meaning of your name. But what to do with you…”

 Annie shuts her eyes. Armin’s face bursts into her mind and then –

 “RAVENCLAW!”

 And Professor Ackerman removes the hat from her head and Annie sees a table of Ravenclaws applauding, and a table of Slytherins watching her with dumbstruck eyes and dropped jaws.

 Annie stumbles off the stool and moves to join the Ravenclaws with a lump in her throat. Her father will not be pleased. Her father will demand that she be resorted, she just knows it. But she takes her place next to Armin – looks into his eyes and his grin – and she feels the weight leave her shoulders and a smile creep onto her lips.

 Let her father come.

 As long as Armin is her friend, she couldn’t care less.


	2. The trappings and the suits of woe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Guilt

 

 

_The trappings and the suits of woe_

 

“ _Ravenclaw_ ,” drawls Reiner. “I still can’t believe that.”

 Annie wrinkles her nose and tries not to listen. They’re in transfiguration trying to turn beetles into buttons with the Slytherins, and the Braun and Hoover boys are having a rather loud conversation from the back of the classroom. She prods at her beetle in an attempt to block it out.

 “I heard Mr. Leonhardt was furious,” she hears Bertholdt say. “He wanted to come to the school or something – he thinks it’s outrageous.”

 Reiner scoffs. “Annie Leonhardt in bloody _Ravenclaw_ , though – I mean it’s obviously not the worst case scenario, but can you imagine being the black sheep in a family like that?”

 Beside her, Armin bristles. “What’s wrong with being in Ravenclaw?” he snaps, turning around in his chair.

 “Armin,” she warns quietly. “Don’t.”

 He ignores her and glares at the two boys instead. “You know, the Hat sorts based on wearer’s thoughts and values. Hers were obviously better suited to Ravenclaw than Slytherin. Is that a problem?”

 Reiner smirks at him. “It is when you come from a family like hers,” he sneers. “Her father’s ashamed. His own _daughter_ , a disgrace. She should be in Slytherin with us.”

 “Careful, now,” says Armin coolly, “if her family’s as important as you say it is, you don’t want to go insulting her by saying she has your level of brain power.”

 “What would _you_ know about her family, Arlert?” snarls Reiner. “Wasn’t your father a filthy mudblood?”

 “That’s enough,” hisses Annie. She slams her palm against the table and her beetles scurry off the desk. “Sorting doesn’t remove my authority, Braun,” she snaps. “Disgrace to my family or not, I’m still a Leonhardt, and you don’t want to cross me. Lay off.” She claps a hand on Armin’s shoulder and forces him to turn back to his desk. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she grumbles, jabbing her wand at one of Armin’s beetles. Its legs tuck into its sides and it transforms with a pop, leaving a shiny black button in its place.

 

 

 Annie has dinner alone that night.

 She figures Armin just has something else to do, or that he’s with Eren and Mikasa for the night, but she can see Reiner and Bertholdt with their heads together in serious discussion over at the Slytherin table, and it makes her feel uncomfortable in her own skin. She wishes Armin were here so she’d at least have someone to talk to, but it would be selfish of her to keep him from his other friends.

 She feels like an outsider in the Ravenclaw Common Room. No one knows how to approach her, or if they should at all. Armin is the only one who doesn’t know and thus doesn’t care.

 She sighs and glances at the Slytherin table again. “Better here than there, I suppose,” she mumbles.

 

 

Armin enters Ravenclaw Tower later than usual.

 Annie breathes a quiet sigh when she spots him in the entryway. She waves at him, but he ducks his head, making sure to keep his fringe over his eyes, and tries to edge his way around the Common Room to the boys’ dormitories. She frowns and climbs out of her seat.

 “Armin?”

 He winces, and Annie blinks at him. Something heavy settles in her chest – he is the only one who doesn’t care about her heritage – who will she have if he’s scared of her too? – but the closer she gets, the more she realizes that he’s not afraid of her like all the others. He’s hiding a bruised eye and a cut lip.

 Annie’s breath hitches, and she seizes his wrist and tugs him back to her armchair before he can even open his mouth to argue. “What happened?” she demands.

 “I – uh – ” Armin looks away, cheeks flaming. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

 “Don’t lie to me, Armin,” she snaps. “ _What happened?_ ”

 He sighs. “Braun and Hoover were… they said some things about you behind your back. Well. They said things about me too. They called my dad a…” he purses his lips. “They called my dad a mudblood again – but mostly they were being awful about you. Eren and I heard them and –”

 “ _You picked a fight with them?!”_

 “Hold on!” says Armin, looking up at last and holding his palms up. “ _I_ didn’t pick a fight with them, Eren did, and I couldn’t just –”

 “That’s not the point, Armin,” Annie groans. She pinches at the bridge of her nose. “Their families are powerful – if they go running to their dads, you and Eren are done for. Why on _earth_ would you put yourself in that position?”

 “Because they should leave you alone!” says Armin. “You’re so much _more_ than a ‘disgrace’ or a ‘black sheep’ or a ‘blood traitor’ – they can’t keep talking about you like you’re _less_ than them – hell, I won’t let them!”

 The guilt hits her like a train. He did this for her. He got hurt _for her_ , and she shrinks into herself and buries her face into her hands. “Armin…” she mumbles. “You can’t do this. You can’t do things like this for me – you _can’t_ –” She sucks in a breath. “I’m sorry.”

 Armin blinks. “ _You’re_ sorry?”

 “Don’t,” she says weakly. “ _Please_ don’t. My family… and their families… they are powerful and old families that don’t take lightly to things like this. The last thing I want is for you to be on their bad side. _Please._ ” She touches his hand. “Don’t do this again. Don’t put yourself in danger for me.”

 He sighs, but his fingers curl around hers. “Sorry,” he says. “You can probably take care of it on your own but… you’re not alone, Annie. You know that don’t you? You’ve got me, and Eren, and Mikasa – just because your family is big and prestigious or whatever, it doesn’t stop you from being our friend.” He squeezes her hand.

 “Hm.” Despite herself, she can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips. “Just promise you won’t get yourself into more of this,” she mumbles. “Okay?”

 He grins – wide and warm and so genuine that it’s infectious – and nods. “Okay. There’s uh – one problem though.”

 Annie groans. “You and Eren have detention with them, don’t you?”

 He chuckles sheepishly. “Uh. Yeah.”


	3. Unto the breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Free Space

_Unto the breach_

 

 

The Quiddith Pitch is foggy this morning and Annie can feel her stomach turning as she listens to the stands fill in the distance. She grips her broom. It’s not exactly the nicest one in the world – it’s one the school’s Cleansweeps and she’d borrowed it because making the house team had been a sort-of accident.

They’re in second year now. Their first had gone by so fast that Annie barely remembers it. She remembers the worst parts but, with Armin beside her, and with Eren, and Mikasa too, the better parts far outnumber them. One morning about a month ago, Armin had slapped a flyer in front of her while she nibbled at a piece of toast.

 “You should try out."

 Annie had just shrugged. “Why?”

 “Because you’d be good at it,” he’d said. “Look at you, you’re tiny and quick on your feet, and I’ve seen you fly – you’d be great at it.”

 She’d scoffed into her pumpkin juice. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself,” she’d said. “Are you trying out?”

 Armin had faltered a little. “Eh… no. But I’m not great on a broom. You saw how I went with those flying lessons last year. You were really good though – and I know you secretly love the game – don’t think I didn’t see that poster of the Montrose Magpies when your trunk fell open on the way here.” He’d tapped the flyer again. “You should try out.”

 “Maybe we should just watch for now,” Annie had said. “It’ll be easier to figure out what they’re looking for in players and then maybe next year, I'll try out.”

 “Clever,” he’d chuckled.

 So on the Saturday of that week, she and Armin had gone down to the pitch, intent on settling in the stands to watch the tryouts when a bludger had come at them out of nowhere. Annie had reacted the only way that made sense – she’d shoved Armin out of the way and picked up a beater’s club from the pile of equipment at the entrance to the stands and _swung_ –

 And the bludger had sailed up and over and through the central hoop at the other end of the pitch.

 “Leonhardt!” The Ravenclaw captain, Rico Brzenska was staring at her like she’d grown a couple of heads. “You here for try outs?”

 “Uh –”

 “Yes!” Armin had said, jumping to his feet. “Yes she is!”

 Rico looked rather pleased. “There’s extra gear in the changing rooms. Go get dressed.”

 Annie had gaped. “Er. This – this was – I’m not really – I don’t have a _broom_ –”

 “There’s an old Cleansweep in the shed,” said Rico. “What are you waiting for? Go! If that’s how you bat, I can’t wait to see you how you fly.”

 And now she’s here. She doubles over like she wants to puke as Rico drones on about their strategy and about Hufflepuff’s weaknesses, but Annie’s only half listening. It’s true that she’s a closet fan of the Montrose Magpies, but Quidditch has never been on her list of priorities. She’s not even sure that the try outs really happened and that this isn’t some bizarre dream. But then –

 “Arlert? What the hell are you doing here? And this is the _Ravenclaw_ changing room, what are Jaeger and Ackerman here for?”

 “Erm.”

 Annie looks up to see Armin peering at them from the changing room doorway. Behind him is Eren, wearing an excited grin, and Mikasa, with a smile she can only _just_ see. All three of them are in Ravenclaw blues.

 Armin coughs. “Sorry. Can – can we just borrow Annie for ten seconds? It’s just – y’know – it’s her first match and we didn’t get to see her this morning to wish her luck and –”

 Rico rolls her eyes at him and waves for Annie to get up. “Just go. Make it quick.”

 Annie does. Her legs feel like lead, but they carry her to the door and Armin grabs her wrist and squeezes it as he pulls her into the hall.

 “You’re gonna be fine,” he says. “You’re good at this. We’re rooting for you.”

 Annie just swallows. “Where’d you guys get –”

 “These?” Mikasa picks at her scarf and prods at Eren’s beanie. “Armin bewitched our Gryffindor ones just for the day. You've got this, Annie.”

 “Yeah, make us proud!” says Eren, holding a fist out for her to bump. “Beater pride, am I right? Consider it practise before you play us – just because you’re a Leonhardt, doesn’t mean we’ll take it easy on you on our next match.”

 Annie can’t help it. She chuckles. “You’ll have a bludger with your name on it today, Eren, I’m warning you.”

 “Save that for when you play each other, probably,” deadpans Mikasa, but she claps Annie’s shoulder. “Good luck, okay?” And they wave good bye and start back down the hall.

 Armin hesitates though, and he looks at her, and then at Eren and Mikasa’s retreating backs before he pulls her into a tight hug. “Be careful out there,” he says quietly. “You’re awesome at this game, but I’ve been reading, and you know there are a thousand ways you could get hurt –”

 She laughs. “Armin. Relax. You’re catastrophizing. I’ll be fine.”

 “Yeah. I know. But still.” When he pulls away, his face is burning.

 Annie pretends not to notice because hers is too.


	4. What visions have I seen!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Future

 

_What visions ~~~~have I seen!_

 

“Annie.”

 It’s lunch time. Annie has her copy of _Spellman’s Syllabary_ propped up against a jug of pumpkin juice, and she looks up in time to see Eren dropping into the seat beside her with a floral teapot and a matching set of tea cups.

 “Drink this.”

 She stares at him. “Excuse me?”

 “It’s tea,” he says, pouring some into the little teacup and sliding it towards her. “Drink it.”

 Annie raises an eyebrow at him and eyes the teapot suspiciously. “Did you poison it?” she deadpans.

 “Annie, I know I’m not as clever as you and Armin, but do you really think I’d be stupid enough to poison the Leonhardt heiress in front of _everyone_ in the Great Hall?” Eren snorts and pours himself cup, dodging the swipe that she aims at the back of his head.

 It’s a title that she hates and everyone _knows_ that she hates it, but Eren is the kind of friend who uses it anyway because he thinks it’s funny. They’ve been at Hogwarts for three years now. He is one of the few that treats it like a joke, and she supposes she doesn’t really mind as much as she pretends she does. It’s certainly better than the students (Slytherins mostly) who sneer at her in the halls like she doesn’t deserve it – not that she wants it to begin with.

 She sighs. “Why?”

 “It’s for Divination,” Eren tells her. “Armin’s practicing on Mikasa and I saw you sitting over here all by your lonesome, so I thought I’d try it on you.”

 Annie narrows her eyes at him. “It was you, wasn’t it?” she hisses.

 “Me what?”

 “You made Armin take that subject with you.”

 Eren snorts at her. “I didn’t _make_ him. I _asked_ _politely_ and he said yes.”

 Annie scowls. “You know that that subject is a load of fluff.”

 “Annie, the sooner you drink your tea, the sooner I’ll leave you alone.”

.Annie narrows her eyes at him but, ultimately, the trade-off isn’t _that_ bad, so she huffs and pulls the teacup towards her. Eren grins at her, pleased, and he reaches into his bag to pull out a hefty black textbook with the words _Unfogging the Future_ branded on the front. He flips through it mildly while Annie drains her tea cup.

 “Aha!” he says when he finds his page. He takes the tea cup from her, swirls the contents around three times and upturns it on the table.

 Annie just rolls her eyes at him and turns back to her book. She gets maybe three, four minutes of silence before Eren prods her shoulder and points excitedly at her cup.

 “Okay,” he begins. “You’ve got something there that looks like a dish – apparently that means a quarrel of some sort, usually at home – and that there looks like a squirrel – ” He pauses to flip through his book some more – “And that means hardship _but_ also prosperity if you wait it out. There’s a tent there too, so… travel. A trip maybe? And that one looks like a heart which means… love, or a trustworthy friend.” He smirks at her.

 Annie meets it with a skeptical snort and a shake of her head.

 “You got a crush on someone, Annie?”

 Annie snorts again. “You said you’d leave me alone if I drank your damn tea.”

 Eren ignores her and nudges her elbow. “Know anyone that’s got a crush on _you_?”

 “Go _away_ , Eren.”

 “The tea leaves are surprisingly accurate, you know,” he says knowledgably. “This morning, Krista predicted that Sasha would lose something, and then around morning tea, she freaked out because she couldn’t find the essay she wrote for Professor Zoe.”

 “I really don’t care.”

 Eren just sniggers. “So who is it, Annie? Who’s caught your eye, huh? There’s a Hogsmeade trip coming up, do you want me to talk to them so you can go together?”

 “Shut up.”

 “Come on, the tea leaves say it so it must be true. Who’re you crushing on, huh?”

 Annie scowls, and she picks at the edge of his textbook and slams it closed on his fingers. “For _fuck’s sake_ , Eren, just because I hang out with Armin all the time, that does not mean I – ”

 But Eren’s smirk widens, and too late, Annie realizes what she had just let slip. The blood rushes to her face so quickly that she’s surprised he hasn’t already started laughing and shouting it out to the rest of the school.

 “Don’t you dare,” she hisses.

 He’s still grinning. “Don’t I dare what?”

 Annie grasps his the lapels of his robes. “I’m warning you Eren, don’t even _think_ about it. I swear to god that if you tell Armin, I’ll –”

 “Tell me what?”

 Annie pales. Eren, apparently, can’t help it anymore, and he bursts into laughter so fitful that it draws stares from students on the other side of the hall. Armin glances at him, and then Annie, and then back again in time to see Eren excuse himself, collect his tea set and head back to the Gryffindor table, cackling the entire way.

 Armin frowns, confused, but he shakes his head like he already knows that it’s better not to ask. He takes a seat. “You know there’s another Hogsmeade trip coming up? Mikasa can’t make it because she wants to catch up on a lesson she missed because she was feeling sick, and Eren’ll probably stay to keep her company. Do you wanna go? I still owe you a Butterbeer from that bet you won last week.”

 “Sure,” croaks Annie, careful not to look him in the eye.

 Armin studies her, brow furrowed. “What’s the matter?”

 She shrugs, hoping she looks nonchalant, and turns back to her book. “Eren makes horrible tea.”


	5. The fairest stars in all the heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: Eyes

 

_The fairest stars in all the heaven_

When Annie went home for the summer after her third year, Armin was a skinny armed nerd with a dorky haircut and only a couple of inches taller than her. He’d pulled her into a hug before they got off the train, and she’d watched his back disappear into the crowded platforms of Kings Cross knowing she’d have his letters to keep her entertained over the summer.

 When she spots him waiting around on Platform 9 and ¾ at the beginning of their fourth year, the air leaves her lungs in a rush, because his shoulders are broader, his hair is tucked into a half ponytail at the base of his head, and he is an entire head taller than she remembers. His cheeks have lost their boyish curves, and there’s confidence in his posture,  and she stares at him for what feels like an eternity before he turns, waves, and grins so widely that Annie actually forgets how to breathe.

 “Annie!” he calls, jogging forward to help her with her trunk. “Hey! It’s good to see you!”

 Annie blinks stupidly and stares up at him. “What the hell happened to you?”

He laughs. “Apparently I grew a few inches,” he jokes. “Or did you just get smaller?”

 She snorts and hits his arm playfully. “Don’t be rude,” she says, picking her broomstick off the top of her trunk. “How was your summer?”

 “Not too bad,” he says, hauling her trunk up the steps of the Hogwarts Express. Vaguely, Annie recalls their first time here and how the two of them had struggled with just one trunk. Now, he tugs it up the steps with relative ease. “Hey, you should come and visit next holiday. Grandpa’s been wanting to meet you for ages.”

 “You’ve been talking about me, have you?”

 “’Course I have,” says Armin. “You’re, like, my best friend here, how could I not? Plus, he’s met Eren and Mikasa already – we saw them while we were in Diagon Alley earlier this year.”

 “Diagon Alley?” Annie asks, confused. “Your grandpa’s a muggle though, isn’t he?”

 Armin snorts. “As if that’d stop him. He loves magic. He comes with me whenever I need to go.”

 “He sounds lovely,” says Annie – and she means it. He raised Armin, after all, and Armin’s probably the only real gentleman in the entirety of Hogwarts.

 He lugs her trunk through the carriage and tucks it into the corner of an empty compartment with his own, and Eren and Mikasa’s trunks. Then he takes her broom from her and puts into the overhead shelf without even getting on his toes. When he turns back to her, he frowns. “What?”

 Too late, Annie realizes that she’s staring again, and she coughs and directs her gaze out the window instead. “I – uh –” She flushes. _“Ahem_ – It’s nothing.”

 

 Everyone goes to bed relatively early that night, one, because the eight hour train ride is exhausting in itself, and two, because the Feast has always had a way of putting students into food comas – but not them. Annie is curled in the corner of a sofa by the fire, and beside her, Armin is folding a piece of paper into a delicate little bird. He prods at it with his wand, and Annie lets out a chuckle when it flutters to her and perches on her wrist.

 “Two months is ages,” he says mildly, stretching out beside her.

 “Mm.” Annie casts a sidelong glance at him and rests the paper bird against the armrest, pretending not to notice how close his fingers are to hers. A couple of years ago, they had no problem pulling each other along by the hand, but something’s different now. She’s not sure what. “It’s good to be back,” she murmurs.

 “You didn’t tell me about your summer,” says Armin.

 Annie sucks in a breath. “It was fine,” she says. As fine as it could be with her father sneering about her blood traitor friends, anyway, but she doesn’t tell him that. It’s nothing different. Nothing she isn’t already used to ignoring. Tonight is the first night in weeks that she hasn’t had to listen to it, and she’s grateful for that.

 Armin pauses. “It wasn’t really fine, was it?”

 Annie says nothing.

 He sighs too, and, hesitantly, he touches her fingers against hers. Annie almost jumps, and she tries to snatch her hand back but Armin’s grip is firm and reassuring. He tugs her towards him and rests her head against his shoulder, slips his arm around her waist and presses his nose into her hair. For the second time that day, Annie forgets how to breathe.

 “Something’s different about you,” she mumbles.

 Armin hums. “Is that bad?”

 A pause. Then, at last, Annie relaxes against him, and she can almost feel him release the breath that had hitched in his throat. “No,” she says. “It’s just different. You’re… I dunno.”

 “That doesn’t sound reassuring,” he says, but Annie lets out a chuckle and pulls away just for a moment.

 He’s changed a lot, but his eyes are the same. They’re still the warm, kind, beautiful blue that look past her name and her title and look at her for who she is. He knows her better than anyone at this point, and Annie knows in her mind that it wouldn’t be fair to keep pretending that he’s _just_ a friend. Eren had figured it out over _tea leaves_ last year and it’s almost embarrassing that it took her this long to realize that this is more than some stupid crush.

 “What’s the matter?” he asks.

 Annie lets out a breath and settles against him again. “Nothing,” she mutters. “I just… missed you, I guess.”

 Armin chuckles. “I missed you too, Ann.”


	6. Two blushing pilgrims

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: ~~Mythology~~ Legend

 

 

_Two blushing pilgrims_

 

Annie has Armin, or at least Eren or Mikasa, in all of her classes except one. She takes Arithmancy alone because Eren had convinced the other two to take Divination with him in third year, and while Annie would have much preferred being in a class with the other three, Divination was just. Not worth it. Mikasa has come to her more than once, complaining about how all of it is _complete_ _bullshit_ , and Annie just sighs, pats her shoulder and mutters “I told you so,” under her breath.

 They’re in fifth year now. They’ve just finished lunch, and both Armin and Mikasa groan at the thought of having to trek all the way to North Tower for today’s Divination lesson. Annie just sniggers to herself, and she bids them good bye outside the Great Hall because she has Arithmancy on the seventh floor. She gets to the fourth before someone joins her.

 “Annie!”

 Annie groans to herself and rolls her shoulders. “Hello, Bertholdt,” she grumbles as he hurries up the staircase to fall into step with her. She glances at him and frowns. “Come to piss me off on your own today?”

 He falters nervously and clears his throat. “Er – no,” he says. “I just wanted to talk.”

 “About how my father wants me to stop ignoring his letters on how I should make an effort to act like I’m not a blood traitor?” she drawls. “Mm. No thank you.”

 “Annie,” he says, and he climbs the rest of the staircase two steps at a time to block her path. “Listen. This is serious. Don’t think Reiner and I haven’t noticed how you’ve been acting around that Arlert kid lately.”

 “Yeah,” snaps Annie. “He’s my friend and I treat him with respect. Well done.” She pushes past him.

 “I think we both know he’s more than just a friend.”

 Annie’s breath hitches and she stops in mid-step. Part of it is panic – no one is supposed to know about her attachment to Armin – no one except maybe Eren and Mikasa, who have that privilege by dint of being her friends. Part of it is because it concerns Armin – and the Hoover and Braun boys being concerned about Armin is enough to raise a red flag for her. At last, she turns. “What do you want?” she asks.

 Bertholdt lets out a relieved sigh. “I know we haven’t been on the best of terms but – ” He purses his lips. “I think it’s time you ended this little charade.”

 “Excuse me?”

 “Look,” he says. “You and Arlert are friends. You have been for years. But you can’t keep pretending that this is going to work out. You’re the _Leonhardt Heiress_ , do you really think your father would let you have that kind of relationship with a – with someone with muggle blood?”

 Annie snorts to keep the nervousness from showing. “What _relationship_ would that be?”

 Bertholdt pauses, and he stares at his shoes like it’s a reality he still hasn’t come to terms with before he looks her right in the eye and says, “You’re in love with him.”

 Annie doesn’t think she’s ever heard it so succinctly. She doesn’t think she’s ever even admitted it to herself. Her heart thumps so loudly in her chest that it hurts and, for a moment, she can’t think of anything to say.

 “This isn’t some Pyramus and Thisbe romance, Annie,” he says, “and even if it was… consider how that ended. Don’t let it get that far.” He takes a breath and ducks his head. “I’ll see you around,” he mutters, and then he turns and leaves Annie standing speechless at the top of the stairs.

 

 

 He’s right, Annie realizes. She doesn’t know who she thinks she’s been kidding all these years, but as much as she hates the title, she will _never_ be able to escape the duty of being her father’s only heir. Armin will never be accepted into that world. She should never have let herself get so close.

 “Leonhardt, are you even listening?”

 She looks up and finds Professor Vector watching her carefully over her glasses. “Sorry Professor,” she mumbles. “I’m just… not feeling so great.”

 Vector studies her for a moment, but then she waves a hand. “You’re excused, then. To the Hospital Wing with you.”

 Annie nods and packs her things without another word.

 

 

 She spends the rest of day buried with her head buried under the covers in the girls’ dormitory. She hears the other girls come and go between classes, and then around dinner time, someone prods at her shoulder.

 “Annie?”

 Annie peers over her duvet to find Mina Carolina perched on the edge of her bed. “Oh. Hello.”

 “Hey,” says Mina, giving her a kind smile. “You okay? Armin’s been worried sick. Someone told him you left Arithmancy because you weren’t feeling so well.”

 Annie’s stomach churns with guilt, and she sighs and tugs the covers back over her head. “I’m just tired, Mina. Tell him not to worry.”

 Mina nods and squeezes her shoulder. “I’ll be back up in a little bit. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

 

 

 Annie heads down to breakfast early the next day, and she spends the entire trek down looking around corners and making sure not to run into Armin. She wolfs down a couple of pieces of toast and follows it up with a goblet of pumpkin juice before she takes her bags and hurries out of the Great Hall again. Avoiding Armin had seemed so easy in her head, and then she remembers that he’s in all her classes except Arithmancy, and she doesn’t even have Arithmancy today.

 She sighs and heads for the library instead.

 She settles by a window in the far corner of the library behind a tower of books, and it’s well past noon before anybody finds her. It just so happens that it’s the one person she doesn’t want to see.

 “Hey.” Armin greets her with a grim smile and takes a seat beside her. “I hear you’ve been avoiding me.”

 Annie stares at her feet and fights the urge to just bolt. “You heard correct,” she mumbles, edging away from him a little. Being so close is making it hard to breathe.

 “I think I at least deserve to know why,” he says gently, and Annie’s heart all but breaks in her chest.

 She swallows. “Have you ever heard of Pyramus and Thisbe?”

 Armin nods. “Legendary Greek lovers, yeah,” he says. “They’re like… the Romeo and Juliet before Romeo and Juliet. They grew up together and fell in love, but their parents were against it, so they arrange to meet in a field. Thisbe gets there first but encounters a lion, and she runs away but drops her veil. When Pyramus gets there, he sees her veil in the lion’s mouth and assumes that it killed her so, in despair, he kills himself. Then she finds out, and she kills herself too. Why?”

 Annie’s throat feels dry and raw. Her chest hurts and she can feel her eyes starting to water. She takes a breath. “You and I both know we’re not _just_ friends anymore,” she murmurs. “The thing is… it’s never gonna work out. My father would _never_ let it happen and… maybe it’s just easier if we stop it before it gets any further.”

 “Since when have you cared about what he thought?” asks Armin, and it breaks her heart because he doesn’t even sound angry. He asks her like he just wants to make things better for her.

 “Since I realized that I’m never going to be able to get away from it,” she says. “It’s time we grow up, Armin.”

 “Is that what you want?”

 Annie takes another breath. The answer she knows she should give is yes, but the answer that comes out of her mouth is the complete opposite. “No.”

 “Good.” And Armin takes both her cheeks in his hands and crushes his lips against hers.

 Annie lets out a muffle squeak of surprise, and she _knows_ in her head that she has to do something to stop it, but he pulls her closer and it’s _everything_ she’s wanted for _months._ Her hands form fists against the lapels of his robes, and the next thing she knows is that she’s shut her eyes and that she’s kissing back with equal fervour. Her arms find their way around his neck, and his circle around her waist and when they part at last, her lips are swollen and her breaths come out short and uneven.

 “I don’t care that your dad thinks that I have dirty blood,” Armin whispers. “I care that you’re happy, and I know for a fact you won’t be if you let him call the shots. If _you_ personally want me to go, then I will, but I’m not prepared to let you live a life that you hate.” He kisses her forehead. “I think I love you, Annie Leonhardt. Blood status be damned.”

 Annie lets out a shaky breath. “It won’t be easy,” she manages.

 He shrugs. “These things usually aren’t,” he quips. “I don’t particularly care though. I’m willing to push through it if you’ll have me.”

 Despite herself, she chuckles. “I’d be an idiot if I said I wouldn’t,” she says, pressing her lips to his again. “Because I think I love you too.”


	7. Chopped logic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: Shock

 

 

_Chopped logic_

 They act like nothing has changed.  

 Annie pretends that she just ignored Bertholdt’s warning, and she goes to class and to meals and to Ravenclaw Tower with Armin like nothing has happened, but she touches his fingers when she knows no one is looking and saves her sweetest smiles for him. Armin tells no one – not even Eren and Mikasa – although he is significantly less guarded around them. He holds her hand under the table and walks her to the door of the girls’ dormitories to bid her goodnight with a kiss every night.

 It’s not the most ideal situation, but they manage. It works so well that they go a year without anyone noticing that something is different. Then things get a little complicated.

 They’re in sixth year now, and it’s nearly Christmas time. Professor Ackerman starts coming around to classes to take the names of students who’ll be staying at Hogwarts over the break, and Annie intends to put her name down, as always, but Armin’s owl arrives one morning with two invitations from his grandfather.

 Armin grins, taking both letters from Montague’s beak. The owl nips his finger affectionately before he takes off again for the owlery, and he holds the second letter out to Annie. “This one’s for you,” he says.

 Annie frowns at him. “Why on earth would your grandfather be sending me messages?”

 “I told you,” says Armin. “He’s been wanting to meet you for ages. I told him you wouldn’t take the invitation from me, so obviously he’s just sent you one himself.”

 “That’s sweet of him,” chuckles Annie. “But I shouldn’t.”

 Armin rolls his eyes at her. “Annie, come on,” he says. “He’s been hearing all about you for six years and he hasn’t met you once. And you know that if you stay here over Christmas, I’ll have to stay too to keep you company, and Grandpa will have to spend Christmas all alone this year. You’re not seriously going to reject his request knowing that, are you?”

 “That’s blackmail,” deadpans Annie.

 “No, it’s fact,” says Armin sagely. “Come on. It’ll be nice to get away. Just us two and my grandpa. Don’t you think?” His grin goes from pleased to sneaky so quickly that it takes Annie a whole second to catch his drift.

 She flushes a little. “Armin.”

 “What?”

 She hides her face behind her hand and stifles an embarrassed laugh.

 “I’ll let him know you’re coming then?”

 She sighs. “Sure.” And she sneaks a glance at the Slytherin table to make sure the Hoover and Braun boys have left before she tugs his hand to her lips and presses a kiss to his fingers.

 

 

 Armin’s grandfather meets them at King’s Cross. He is moustachioed and hunched, but his eyes are like Armin’s – full of the same warmth and kindness that Annie has come to love. He greets them with a wave, pulls his grandson into a hug, and then pulls Annie into one too, like she’s always been part of the family.

“I’m so pleased to finally meet you,” he tells her. “Armin’s been talking about you for years, I can’t believe he’s only just brought you home now.”

 “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Arlert,” says Annie, but he waves her off.

 “I’m not having any of that,” he says. “Call me Reg. Come now, it’s a long drive to Hastings from here.”

 

 

 Annie has never been inside a muggle car. Armin lets her sit in the passenger seat so she can watch as Reg drives. She tries not to show her fascination for the gear stick, and the brakes, and the little dials on the dashboard, but Reg takes it all in stride and tells her all about the mechanisms for each component.

 She has never been inside a muggle house either. Both Arlerts hide their amusement as she marvels photos, and lamps, and electrical appliances. Secretly, Annie wishes she’d taken Muggle Studies so she looked less like an idiot. They don’t mind though - Reg was an electrical engineer once, and he happily explains how everything works as she asks. In return, she shows him small tricks – makes a tea cup tap dance across the table; bewitches his tea so that it’s always warm; stacks the dishes with a wave of her wand. She’s sure that Armin had started showing off the summer after he turned sixteen, but Reg is fascinated by _everything_ she shows him.

 Their house is only little – there’s Armin’s bedroom, Reg’s bedroom, and a tiny little guestroom at the end of the house. Armin had actually apologised to her for it being so small, but Annie had jumped onto the springy mattress and let out a content sigh. “Shut up,” she’d said. “Everything is perfect.”

 On Christmas Eve, Reg roasts a turkey, mashes some potatoes, and pulls some wine off the shelf (“You’re both of age in your world, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”) and it’s a homemade feast that is actually better than Christmas dinner at Hogwarts. Annie doesn’t think she’s ever felt so happy –

 Until someone knocks at the door.

 They frown at each other – it’s practically a blizzard outside – who on earth would be knocking now? But Armin excuses himself and opens the door, and Annie feels the blood drain from her face when she realizes who it is.

 “You must be the Arlert boy,” snaps the visitor. “Stand aside, I’m here to take my heir home.”

 Annie hurries to the door, and she yanks Armin out of the way and steps in front of him before he can even open his mouth to argue. “Hello dad,” she greets coldly. “What are you doing here?”

 “Didn’t you hear?” he snarls. “I’m here to take you home. This has gone on for long enough. Pack your things.”

 Annie scowls at him. “No.”

 “I’m not in the mood for games, Annie,” her father hisses. “You’ve been acting like a blood traitor for too long. I won’t have it. Do as I say. _Pack. Your. Things.”_

“No,” says Annie again, and she stands her ground. “I am legally of age and I am not your property. You have no right –”

 “ _No right_?” he growls. “You are the _Leonhardt Heiress_ and you have duties to your family – to me. Start acting like you deserve your title, for god’s sakes, stop with this _nonsense_. You are not to associate with mudblood filth again, do you understand?”

 “ _Mudblood filth_?” hisses Annie. Her blood feels cold, and her hands form fists at her sides. “How _dare_ you,” she snaps. “These people have treat me better than you do on a good day. Reginald Arlert treats me more like a _daughter_ than you ever have. To them, I am an actual person, not just some heiress to a family whose status is determined entirely by something as arbitrary as magical blood. You are bitter, and hateful, and I am tired of pretending I am anything like you.”

 “Enough of this, Annie –”

 “No. Shut up.” Her heart is pounding in her ears and her hands are shaking but she doesn’t care. “I’m not leaving. Not today. Not because you tell me to.”

 “Stop acting like a child, Annie, you are my heir –”

 Annie lets out a hollow laugh. “Find another one,” she hisses, and she slams the door in his face before he can get out anything else. For a moment, there is silence. When she turns, Armin and Reg are staring at her in shock. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, voice cracking, and she pushes past them to find refuge in the guest room.

 

 

 Armin knocks twice before he lets himself in a little while later. “Hey,” he murmurs. "Can I come in?"

 Annie sucks in an uneven breath and rubs furiously at her eyes. “Yeah,” she manages. “I’m sorry about all that.”

 He shrugs and seats himself next to her. His fingers find hers, and she leans her head against her shoulder and lets out a tired sob. “Don’t apologize,” he says gently. “It’s not exactly something we expected to happen. You okay?”

 “I suppose,” she says. “As okay as I could be after – after all that.”

 He chuckles and kisses her hair. “I wouldn’t call anything definite just yet,” he tells her quietly. “Grandpa invited him in, you know. Offered him some tea. Said you made it and that he shouldn’t miss out on something so delicious. He refused – mostly because I think he was embarrassed. He left this for you.” He hands her a small package. “I heard him disapparate and then apparate again, so presumably he went all the way home to get it. He – he actually told Grandpa that he was sorry and that you should send him an owl when you’re ready.” Armin pauses and fiddles with her fingers. Annie feels like he wants to say something else, and after a moment, he takes a breath. “He called us mudblood filth,” he says thoughtfully, “but then he apologized. Why do you think he would do that?”

 Annie shrugs. “I’m his only heir,” she says quietly. “Our whole family’s estate – our vault in Gringotts – all of it goes to someone to else if I renounce my title. That’s all I am to him, y’know? Just someone to carry on his stupid pure blood line.”

 “I think,” says Armin, “that you’re also his only daughter, and that he never realized how much you hated the way he treated other people. I think he realized that he had to do a little growing up too – especially if he doesn’t want to lose you. He doesn’t want you to hate him, Annie. The fact that he actually apologized to me and my grandpa is proof of that.”

 Annie snorts, despite herself. “Why on earth would you say something like that?”

 “Because it’s true,” says Armin with a smile. “You should open that.”

 Annie sighs, but she turns the little package over in her hands and pulls at the twine to unwrap it. A ring falls into her hand – silver, and delicate, with a tiny amber stone pressed into it. It’s a Leonhardt ring, she realizes – her father must have had one made for her when she turned sixteen. She’s almost certain that she was only supposed to get it when she assumed her position as head of her family. There’s a note too. It’s in her dad’s handwriting, and it looks like it was written in a hurry, but it says –

  _This is yours whether you choose to be my heiress or not. You are my daughter, Annie, and I apologize that, at times, I forgot that. I am truly sorry for the way I treated your friend and his grandfather. Send me an owl when you’re ready to talk._

Armin takes it from her and slips it onto her finger. “Maybe one day, I can give you one of these from me,” he says with a chuckle and, almost too late, Annie realizes the implication. “Come and finish Christmas Eve dinner,” he adds before she can think any more about it. “Grandpa’s got a pudding in the fridge that needs to be eaten.” And he takes her by the hand and tugs her out of the room.

 Annie glances at the ring; studies the way it gleams in the yellowish light; and decides to leave the thinking for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wiki'd literally everything to make sure it was as accurate as possible to HP canon but I realized literally just now (3 hours after I posted) that legal wizarding age is 17, not 16. WHOOPS. It's a bit late to change it now - this chapter needs Annie to be abls to do magic outside of school so it's a mistake we'll all just have to live with. SORRY!!!


	8. Untimely frost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 8: Illness

 

 

_An untimely frost_

 

 The days before they have to go back to school are the worst – not because they’re bad in any way, but because Annie has had a rather lovely time with the Arlerts despite the mishap on Christmas Eve. They spend the last of their break drinking hot chocolate by the fire with Reg, sledding on the hill a couple of blocks away, and watching Christmas specials of a television show Armin had enjoyed in his youth (“He’s called the _Doctor_ , Annie, not ‘ _Doctor Who’._ ”).

 At last, their holidays come to an end, and Reg drives them both back to King’s Cross with a heavy sigh. He hugs them both on the platform, tells them to enjoy the rest of the year, and, before they get on the train, he holds both Annie’s hands in his and says, “Come back and visit next summer, won’t you, Annie? As much as I enjoy Armin’s company, it’s much livelier with both of you in the house.”

 Annie chuckles and squeezes his gnarled fingers. “I’ll do my best. Thank you for having me.”

 “You’re welcome any time, dear,” says Reg. “Keep in touch. Look after my grandson.”

 “I will,” says Annie, climbing on to the train. She joins Armin in a compartment a little way down the carriage and opens the window to bid Reg farewell. “See you when I see you next, I suppose.”

 “Bye Grandpa,” adds Armin, squeezing in next to her. “We’ll see you in June – yes, _we –_ you’re not getting out of visiting, Annie, don’t even try.”

 Annie just rolls her eyes and nudges him so she’s not squished against the seat. “Bye, Reg,” she says, as the train lurches into motion.

 “Take care, both of you!” he calls over the noise, offering them one last wave. “Oh, and Annie.” He pauses, wincing at the sound of the train whistle. “Be sure to send your father that owl!”

 Annie hesitates, and she turns her eyes to the ground. At last, she sighs. “I will,” she mumbles, but when she looks up again, Reg is already out of sight.

 

 

 She doesn’t send her father that owl.

 Owls from him come to her, asking how she is, and congratulating her on her Quidditch wins, and how her classes are – but Annie doesn’t really have much to say. Over six years, her father has only ever sent her letters about how much he hates her friends, and how she should take her title more seriously. Her summers at home were quiet and uneventful, and she can count the number of conversations they’d had on her fingers. He has never actively done anything wrong – he has given her a huge number of gifts – many of which she has no need for – but he has never actively been a father, either, and he expects her to tell him all about her life at school _now_?

 She scoffs. She’d meant what she said on Christmas Eve. She doesn’t want the damn title, and though Armin promises her that her father had properly apologised to him and his grandfather, it’s going to take a little more than that to make up for _six years_ of poor parenting.

 At some point, Eren and Mikasa must figure it out on their own – or perhaps Armin tells them - Annie can’t be sure – but one day, Mikasa sits down with her at the Ravenclaw table while Armin is helping Eren on his Potions essay.

 “How are things?” she greets mildly.

 Annie shrugs. She’s fighting a headache today – not from anything in particular – she thinks she’s just tired. “We hang out literally every day. You know how things are.”

 “Not all things,” says Mikasa. “I hear you’re having some issues with personal things. Wanna talk about it?”

 Annie bristles and turns back to her lunch. “Not really,” she grumbles.

 Mikasa just shrugs and helps herself to a bread roll. “You know,” she says, “my uncle never really liked my dad. They had arguments about a lot of things, but a lot of it was just _pointless_ crap, but at times, there were some really low blows. And then my parents died.”

 Annie pauses. “This is a little dark.”

 “I have a point.”

 “I know what your point is,” snaps Annie, but she regrets it almost immediately. “Sorry,” she mumbles, massaging her temples with her fingers. “It’s just… I don’t really want to talk about any of this right now.”

 “Annie.” Mikasa sighs, and then ducks under the table to take a seat right across from Annie. “Look. Your dad isn’t the nicest guy. Everyone knows that. But what if he’s really trying to make amends for things?”

 Annie sighs too. She pushes her food away and runs her hands over her face. “I’m not sure you’re understanding what it means to ‘make amends’ with my father. That means going home and pretending like the last six years didn’t happen. That means forgiving him for calling you, and Eren, and Armin ‘blood traitors’ even though we both know he’s _never_ going to stop being horrible to anyone who isn’t _pure blood_. I don’t _want_ to live my life like that. I don’t want to see him treat Armin like that _ever_ again. And being the Leonhardt Heiress doesn’t mean _just_ dealing with him – it means dealing with families who are _all_ like that. I’m not doing it. I _refuse_ to be his heir.”

 Mikasa lets out a heavy breath, but she leans across the table and grasps Annie’s shoulders. “This isn’t about you being his heir, Annie,” she says. She glances at the ring on her finger. “This is about him wanting his daughter back, whether she chooses to be his heir or not. Do you honestly think he would have given you that otherwise?”

 Annie says nothing, and Mikasa squeezes her shoulders gently. “My uncle never forgave himself for the things he didn’t say to my dad before he died. Don’t make his mistakes. Come on. You can borrow Puck.”

 

 

 There are a few false starts (and many wasted rolls of parchment), and they do nothing to ease Annie’s headache but an hour later, the letter is done. Mikasa goes with her to the owlery – Annie doesn’t often have a reason to go, but the climb is more dizzying than she remembers. When they get there, Annie’s cheeks are flushed, her breath is short, and her head hurts so much that she actually has to pause at the entrance.

 Mikasa studies her carefully, but Annie waves her off in favour of finding Puck and getting this damn thing done and over with. Eren’s tawny owl flutters down from the rafters when Mikasa whistles, and she takes the letter from Annie, gives it to Puck, and lets him fly from the window.

 Annie watches him disappear into the horizon before her vision blurs, and she falls to her knees on the owlery floor.

 “Annie! Annie, hey, you okay?”

 “Yeah,” Annie croaks, before she passes out against Mikasa’s arms.

 

 

 The next thing Annie knows is that she’s in the Hospital Wing.

 There are voices above her, her eyes flutter open for a moment but the light _hurts_ and she groans and shuts them tightly again.

 “Annie?”

 It sounds like Armin, and she tries to answer but all she can manage is a vague sounding “Murgh.”

 “She’s tired,” she hears Armin say. He sounds guilty. “I should have noticed. I mean I knew she had a lot on her mind but I didn’t realize it was getting to her this much. I’m sorry Mr. Leonhardt, I should have paid closer attention to her.”

 Mr. Leonhardt? Annie groans again and tries to open her eyes again, but her eyelids feel heavy.

 “Don’t apologize,” says Mr. Leonhardt tiredly. “It’s not your fault. Thank you for sending for me.” He pauses awkwardly. “She never sent me an owl so we could talk,” he says. “I wanted so much to fix things with her, but I suppose I’m beyond her forgiveness now.”

 “Oh,” says Armin. “She sent that earlier today. It probably hasn’t reached your estate yet. She – uh – she collapsed a little after she sent it. A friend of ours, Mikasa, said that she didn’t look too great when they got to the owlery, but Annie has always been really good at pretending she’s okay.”

 “I suppose she has,” says Mr. Leonhardt. “I never realized… how much she resented my expectations, after all.”

 There’s a pause. Annie feels a hand brush her hair out of her face, and she tries once more to open her eyes with no luck.

 “You love her, don’t you?” asks her father.

 She hears Armin’s breath hitch. “Yes,” he says. “I do.”

 “Hm.”

 

 

 When Annie wakes again (properly, this time), the Hospital Wing is dark, and she feels like she’s in an oven. She bolts forward to throw the covers off, but a hand catches her shoulder to steady her.

 “Hey now, you’re all right. You’re all right. There you go, take a breath.”

 Annie does. It’s shaky, but still a breath, but when she looks to her right to see who’s at her bedside, it hitches in her throat.

 Her father pushes her back against the pillows gently. “Hello Annie.”

 “What are you doing here?” she croaks.

 “Your friend sent for me,” he says. “The Arlert boy, I mean. Armin? He said you collapsed. I came straight here.”

 Annie swallows. “Where is he?”

 “In Ravenclaw Tower,” he answers. “Madam Ral wouldn’t let him stay. Curfew and all. I offered to stay in case you woke up.”

 “Why?”

 Mr. Leonhardt sighs and leans forward in his chair. “Because you’re my daughter, Annie, and I owe you an apology. A real one. I was hoping we could talk. If that’s all right, of course. It can wait til the morning, if you prefer.”

 Annie hesitates. “When have you ever cared about what I prefer?” she grumbles bitterly.

 Mr. Leonhardt looks away guiltily. “I am sorry. Truly. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, but I do hope I can make it up to you one day. Starting with your friend. Or – ” He pauses. “Boyfriend.”

 Annie almost chokes. “Pardon me?”

 “I know about all about it,” he says. “I saw the way he looked at you. I looked at your mother like that when I met her here at Hogwarts. I think, once, I never would have allowed it. Not someone of his… lineage – but he loves you. He looked me right in the eye, and he told me. And I know you love him and that he makes you happy. How could I forbid that? How could I make you choose between a life of happiness with him and a life of arbitrary rules with me? I’ve made you unhappy enough for one lifetime, I think. You will always be welcome home – goodness knows, your mother would murder me if I didn’t make that clear to you – but I can understand if you want to renounce your title to live a life away from all that judgement.”

 Annie stares at him. It’s the most sincere she has _ever_ seen her father that she can barely believe she’s speaking to the right man. She takes a breath. “Is… is there a way I can do both?” she croaks at last.

 Mr. Leonhardt blinks. “That won’t be easy,” he says.

 “These things usually aren’t,” she says hoarsely. “But I’m willing to try.”

 “Then we’ll try,” says Mr. Leonhardt, and Annie thinks she sees him swell with hope and, for the first time in years, he smiles. She does too, and she doesn’t know if maybe she’s being too hopeful too early, but it’s enough. At least for now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her father leaves the next morning, and Annie makes her way down to breakfast before Madam Ral can stop her. Armin is sitting at the Gryffindor table with Eren and Mikasa today, and she hurries towards them.

 “Annie!” greets Armin. He gets to his feet instinctively, watching her with worried eyes. “Madam Ral said you weren’t supposed to leave til this afternoon! Are you okay? Where’s – ”

 She rolls her eyes. It’s cute that he’s so worried, and honestly, it just makes her want to kiss him. So she does.

 Eren lets out a whoop and yells “FINALLY!” at the top of his lungs. Mikasa hits him, but she grins, looking pleased. The Braun and Hoover boys look like they’ve been clubbed over the head with beater’s clubs but Annie doesn’t care. She smiles against Armin’s lips and pulls him closer, and then closer still –

 Until Professor Ackerman taps both their shoulders muttering about how the entire school has probably seen enough.

 “Uhm.” Armin coughs, beet red. “Everything’s okay then?”

 “Everything’s fine,” she says. “Really.” She grins, because she means it.

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone for putting up with this ridiculous AU, but I have honestly really enjoyed doing Aruani week. Mostly, I’m proud that I managed to commit for all 8 days. Please don’t think that this fic is done. You’ve got at least one bonus coming (bc I did the Free Space instead of NSFW, so guess what your bonus is gonna be!). Thank you again everyone! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!


	9. BONUS: The marriage of true minds - NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS: NSFW. Warnings apply.

 

 

_The marriage of true minds_

 

It starts with a kiss.

 In Annie’s defence, they’ve been working hard all day and she’s pretty sure they deserve a little bit of a break. They’re in seventh year now, and their NEWTs are fast approaching. Ravenclaw Tower is practically empty except for them and three or four other seventh years who’d elected to stay at Hogwarts over Easter break. After two hours of solid revision, Annie had thrown down her quill and dragged Armin up by the hand muttering something about it being break time and going down to the Great Hall for lunch.

 They get as far as the sixth floor before Annie tugs Armin into an empty classroom, charms the door locked, and she kisses him until they’re both breathless.

 “What happened do lunch?” huffs Armin.

 “Later,” says Annie. “I just… want a little privacy first.”

 Armin chuckles to himself, but he grins and kisses her back. He walks her backwards and presses her back against the wall, hands cupping both her cheeks, and Annie _swears_ that all she wanted to do was make out for a bit, but there is a bulge growing in Armin’s trousers that she can feel against her leg, and whatever rational thoughts she had about anything disappears entirely.

 They’ve done this before – just never at school in an empty classroom. Annie remembers her first time fondly, and hopes that Armin had felt as good as she did when he’d taken her in his bedroom last summer. Opportunities for privacy have been few and far in between. So she kisses along his jawline and nibbles his ear a little; allows his hands to wander under her robes and into her shirt, relishing in the moans he stifles against the skin of her neck. His fingers play with the buttons of her shirt, undoing them one at a time to kiss at the swell of her breasts and along the edge of her bra.

 “You do know we’re in an empty classroom, don’t you?” he says, kneeling to caress his lips against the taut skin of her belly. “Anyone could walk in on us.”

 “Says the boy undressing me,” quips Annie breathlessly. She runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “It’s Easter break. No one’s going to walk in on us. I jinxed the door to stay locked.”

 Armin snorts, hands sliding under her skirt to cup her ass. “You planned to do this today, did you?”

 “I honestly didn’t,” laughs Annie, biting her lip as he trails his index fingers along the seams of her panties. “We can stop if you like.”

 Armin shakes his head, and he gets up again, keeps his hands under her knees to hitch her against him, and sandwiches her between him and the wall. Annie wraps her legs around his waist and groans as he rocks his hips against hers. “How do you want to do this?” he asks. “We can stay here. Or we can make use of one the desks.”

 Annie flushes a little despite herself. The majority of their encounters have been in a bed, but she can’t deny that she’s thought about trying other things. “On the desk, I think,” she mumbles. “Might be more comfortable.”

 Armin nods, and wraps her arms around his neck and carries her over the nearest desk. He seats her on the edge and kisses her again – Annie takes the opportunity to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt, sniggering against his lips.

 “Are you laughing at me?” he asks, pausing.

 “No,” says Annie. “It’s just – you’ve never been much of a rule breaker.”

 “Neither have you,” says Armin, smirking at her and pulling her panties to the side to run a finger along her slit.

 Annie gasps, fingers curling around the edges of the desk. He knows what she likes – she’s not sure how, although, now that she knows of what muggles call the Internet, she has an idea. Or perhaps everything he does just feels good. Right now, she doesn’t care. His thumb toys with her clit, and she bites down on her tongue to keep herself from crying out. Her own hands find his belt and she undoes the buckle with shaky fingers.

 He pauses again, and Annie makes a noise of frustration in her throat. Huffing, she tugs his fingers out of the way and undoes his trousers too. She motions for him to move a little, and then she hops off the desk to kneel in front of his crotch. She kisses the tip through his underwear, before she pulls his cock entirely and slips the head into her mouth.

 Armin groans, and Annie looks up at him, feeling a pride bubble in her stomach at the sight of him. His eyes are shut and his breaths are sharp and shaky. He groans again when she starts to suck. She toys with his balls and grip his ass, and Armin lifts a hand to his mouth to stifle a moan. He stops her after a moment, and motions for her to get back on the desk.

 Annie does, and Armin pulls off her shoes, and then her socks, and then her panties so that they’re dangling around one ankle. His fingers fiddle with her clit before they press into her, and Annie lets out a moan loud enough for him to pause and listen to make sure no one is approaching.

 “You’re so loud,” he mutters, working his fingers in and out of her while he thumbs at her clit.

 Annie wants to say something witty but all that comes out is another groan. There is a pressure in her abdomen, and she clutches at his robes as it builds, and builds, and builds, and then Armin flexes his fingers _just_ so and she comes undone with a gasp. Her hips move of their own accord, and he grins, nipping gently at her neck as she rides out her orgasm.

 When she comes back from her high, he pushes her back so that she’s lying against the dark wood of the desk. “Ready?” he murmurs.

 Annie nods, struggling to find words. “Y-yeah,” she manages. “ _God_ , Armin – ” She gasps again when he presses into her, eyes shut tight at the sudden intrusion.

 “You okay?”

 “Yeah, just – ” Annie takes a slow breath and allows herself to adjust. At last, she nods, and Armin starts to move.

 He’s slow at first – careful, so he doesn’t hurt her – but she moans against the back of her hand and he starts to pick up speed. He grunts, tugging her bra down so he can play with her nipples, and goosebumps appear on Annie’s skin at the sensation. Her legs tighten around his waist, and she arches her back to give him better access.

 He lets out a groan that sounds like her name, and one of his hands leaves her breast to play with her clit again.

 “ _Armin_ ,” she moans. The familiar pressure is building again and she scrambles for something to hold onto as he fucks into her warmth. “God, _yes,_ I’m so close, oh – _yes, there –_ ” She slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle the scream that threatens to leave her lips, and she _comes_ , thighs quivering around his waist.

 Armin groans too, and the sensation of her coming against him is almost too much. He pulls out of her and pumps furiously at his cock, spilling his seed all over her stomach. He hunches over her for a bit, forehead pressed against her breastbone to catch his breath. He pulls his wand out of the pocket of his robes and prods at the mess.

  _“_ T – _Tergeo_ ,” he huffs. It vanishes, and Armin all but collapses against her. “How – how was it?”

 “ _Good_ ,” mumbles Annie, running her fingers through his hair. “What about for you?”

 He nods against her breastbone and chuckles. “Amazing. As always.” He sucks in a breath and straightens. “You are beautiful, y’know?” he says, tugging her up as well. “Not just when – you know – but I do mean it. I feel like I don’t tell you enough.”

 “If you told me enough, it’ll go to my head,” quips Annie, slipping carefully off the desk. Her knees wobble for a moment, but she steadies herself against him before she pulls her panties back on. “We should – uh – actually get lunch, probably.”

 “Probably,” agrees Armin, and he grins and kisses her nose. “But I think we can both agree in saying having a break was a good idea.”

 Annie laughs and kisses his back. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.”


End file.
